


House Party

by Aja, earlgreytea68



Series: Hays Code Love Scene [2]
Category: Shenanigans (Original Universe)
Genre: Alcoholism, Backstory, College, Into the Woods - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, Shenanigans (Original Universe) - Freeform, Theatre, Uncomfortable Sexuality, sondheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aja/pseuds/Aja, https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: It’s rare, this supernova of unwanted self-knowledge.





	House Party

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [Festa in casa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12203544) by [carbonbased000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carbonbased000/pseuds/carbonbased000)



 

Jonah doesn’t even know how he wound up at this particular party, but it just figures that Elliot would be there, too. They end up at a lot of the same parties, him and Elliot, even though he’s not sure either of them particularly like parties. He knows why he’s there; he has no idea about Elliot.

Elliot shoots him a nod across the kitchen when Jonah first enters, then comes over and tries to make small talk with him while staring a little too openly at the open collar of Jonah’s shirt, which is a subtle grey floral pattern that Elliot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Elliot’s wearing all black, a tight black t-shirt with dress pants, looking thin and slippery and slightly pissed off at the inferiority of whatever drink he’s knocking back, and Jonah feels it again, that twinge of, of something.

But then Elliot, only half-listening to Jonah trying to discuss the scene Elliot blocked in their directing class, abruptly flies away in mid-conversation because someone starts loudly misquoting _500 Days of Summer_ and he has to go and correct them, and Jonah finds himself torn, as always, between being annoyed and being amused.

He’s there to maybe hook up with a guy in his econ class he’s been flirting with for a while, but he’s a no-show, so Jonah winds up talking to another guy he’s talked to around the Paramount a few times. They make out a little and wind up trading hand jobs in somebody’s bedroom, and the guy clearly wants Jonah to go home with him; but it’s still early yet, and Jonah’s a firm believer in leaving people wanting more, so he just smiles and says he wants to stay at the party a little longer, which exasperates the guy into leaving. Perfect.

Most of the party-goers are doing shots inside or playing beer pong in the front yard, so Jonah’s in the backyard smoking a joint and enjoying having a moment to himself when Elliot stumbles out onto the porch, thrown into sharp relief by the lights from inside. But Elliot also looks discomfited. He’s holding another one of those drinks he doesn’t even like; he gives it a look of distaste and then abruptly downs it in one long motion. Then he throws the cup to the side and grips the railing like he’s trying to brace himself, and Jonah feels an even sharper twinge of something even more annoying.

He’s about to throw his joint to the side and step out of the shadows when another guy Jonah doesn’t recognize comes out and slings his arm around Elliot’s shoulders. Elliot bristles at the touch and then seems to forcibly relax.

“Hey,” says the guy. “We were doing so good in there, d’you go all shy on me?” He leans in and kisses the side of Elliot’s neck, and Elliot instinctively stiffens but then seems to give into the contact, only to jerk away the moment the guy moves to cup his ass.

Jonah thinks, _No, you’re doing it wrong, you don’t grab a scared kitten, you gentle it—_ and abruptly feels like he’s intruded on something. There are couples making out all over the place, but Elliot’s clearly uncomfortable and trying not to be, and Jonah didn’t need to see Elliot’s features going pinched and alarmed, he didn’t need to know that Elliot is apparently still going through the phase Jonah went through when he was 15 or 16 and terrified of being noticed, of being looked at, of being touched. It strikes him suddenly how young Elliot is; he’s 19, but he’s a young 19. He probably grew up coddled and sheltered and relatively inexperienced, a heartstopper without realizing it. And it was probably fine until he got to college and found himself surrounded by a sea of hormones and sexual overtures. It all reminds Jonah of himself, except that for Jonah, it stopped being fine much earlier. Jonah’s only 20, but he’s a much older 20 than anyone else he knows.

He wonders what Elliot will be a few years from now—whether he’ll grow out of or into the casual self-centeredness that seems to frequently overtake him; whether he’ll grow into his sexuality, and what that will look like.

Elliot’s trying to make himself unbend into the arms of the guy he’s with, but frankly he looks stiff and dissatisfied and miserable. Jonah knows Elliot would hate knowing Jonah has seen him like this, but he also knows what someone in need of rescuing looks like.

So the next time the guy pulls away and glares at Elliot for his nonresponsiveness, Jonah puts on his most booming voice and says, “Elliot! There you are, I was looking for you,” and moves onto the porch to join them. “Have you heard anything about the audition dates for _Into the Woods_ next month?”

Elliot, clearly startled, takes a few steps away from the guy and shoots Jonah a confused look. “Oh,” he says. “I don’t—no, I don’t think Patterson’s announced it yet, it would have been all over the Paramount.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. It’s just,” says Jonah, smiling broadly and wedging his way between Elliot and the guy, who glares at Elliot for not doing more to protest, “I’m doing a show up in Northampton and I’m kind of worried I’ll miss the audition week. And of course I wouldn’t want to miss a Sondheim show for the world, even if it is one of the most over-performed.”

“That’s a lie,” says Elliot automatically, eyes flitting between Jonah and over Jonah’s shoulder at the guy. He shifts subtly away from both of them, closer to the corner of the porch, and Jonah shifts in response, effectively blocking his makeout partner. “It’s impossible to over-perform _Into the Woods_.”

“What the fuck,” says the guy.

Jonah shoots him a nod over his shoulder. “Hi, I’m Jonah,” he says, and then turns back to Elliot. “Even if they’re not doing the double roles? You’ve heard the rumor they’re not doing the double roles, right?”

“Yeah, but Patterson would never,” says Elliot, and he’s babbling a little, but he’s looking steadily at Jonah like he’s trying desperately to shut out the moment before and the guy who’s glaring at Jonah’s back. “Like, you heard her go on that tangent the other day about how Sondheim uses ironic doubling throughout each of his shows to reinforce themes and build subtle forms of tension, and I don’t think she’d resist the opportunity to do that, especially not with something as well-known as _Into the Woods_.” By the time he’s done he and Jonah are clearly in each other’s spaces, and the other guy is shut out.

“You say that now,” says Jonah, “but if you were a director and you had two equally talented showboating actors, you’d hardly resist the chance to cast one as the wolf and one as the prince, right?”

“No, no way,” says Elliot. “Not doubling the prince and the wolf shouldn’t even be an option, you lose the impact of the seduction of ‘Hello, Little Girl’ if it’s not explicitly paralleled with the prince’s brush-off later.”

“Do you, really, though? You don’t think Sondheim effectively established the universality of the wolf? I think the audience understands that the story of Little Red Riding Hood is a sexual awakening and the wolf is an everyman.”

“That’s the thing, though,” and Elliot’s forgotten his makeout partner is there—if he’s even still there, Jonah’s not looking. “You can sell that through the wolf, but Cinderella’s prince is too individual. He’s a spoiled product of his privilege and upbringing.”

“You think a spoiled brat who sleeps around reads differently to an audience than a spoiled brat who’s also a wolf in prince’s clothing,” says Jonah.

“Well, yeah,” says Elliot. “The prince’s womanizing partly leads to the baker’s wife’s death, but he still doesn’t care enough about her or her death to actually take action to kill the giant. If he’s just a spoiled rich dude, that moment seems like cowardice and petulance. But when you double the actor as the wolf, he becomes a metaphor about power structures and the patriarchy and the way men overlook women.”

“I think you’re wrong,” says Jonah, and Elliot huffs at him, which is... anyway.  “I mean, you’re not wrong about the metaphor, that’s a very astute observation, but I think you’re wrong that the prince doesn’t read as emblematic of the patriarchy. The people who kill the giant and rout the witch aren’t the establishment, they’re the peasants and the commoners and the girl who runs away from the palace. The class elements are completely clear.”

“But not the feminist elements,” Elliot protests.

“ _And_ the feminist elements. This is Sondheim, after all. And anyway, it’s clear which part you’d be in the running for, so the issue of double roles doesn’t really apply to you.”

Elliot blinks. “You think I’d be up for Jack.”

“I think you _are_ Jack,” says Jonah. “Fun and well-intentioned, but also headstrong and obsessed with adventure.”

Elliot narrows his eyes. “You just want to play the prince,” he says, “and you think you’ll have a better chance at getting cast if the prince _isn’t_ paired up with the wolf, because you know you’d be better at selling the prince’s campy over-the-top-ness if you don’t also have to sell the wolf’s lascivious sexuality.”

Jonah starts to retort and then has to take a moment, first to marvel that he willingly put himself in the way of Elliot’s insult, and then to wonder if Elliot even realizes Jonah staged this scene on purpose, or if Elliot just thinks Jonah is just bombastic enough to interrupt a makeout session in order to talk about himself.

And then there’s the entirely irrelevant fact that Elliot isn’t wrong about Jonah—except that somehow his interpretation is warped and cruel, and it throws Jonah off. So he does what he usually does when he’s thrown off: he turns on the charm.

“Why, Elliot,” he says. “You don’t think I can exude lascivious sexuality?” He leans closer. “That’s not what I heard earlier tonight.”

Elliot cringes away from him. “Of course it isn’t,” he says, shooting Jonah a dark look. “God forbid you don’t hook up with the first person you see when you walk into a room.”

“At least I can stand to be touched,” says Jonah sharply, and Elliot looks up at him, aghast.

“You don’t have to get drunk in order to let yourself be intimate with people,” Jonah continues. “You don’t have to force yourself to let random assholes grope you just because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do at a party.”

“Fuck off,” says Elliot. “God, you’re like, you’re like a _Rent_ gay.”

“I’m _sorry_?” says Jonah.

“It’s like you’re from the ‘90s,” says Elliot, waving his hand wildly at Jonah, like Jonah should understand what that means. “You’re here, you’re queer, you’re used to it. No day but today, so let’s all shag as much as possible. You make it look so easy, you _think_ it’s so easy, don’t you, to just fall into bed with whoever you want.”

“I don’t think it’s easy for everyone,” says Jonah. “And despite what you think, it wasn’t always easy for me. But what it should never be is torture, Elliot. Especially not for you.”

Elliot looks bewildered, and Jonah should probably stop talking now, but he doesn’t. “You should never be with someone who touches you like you’re a foregone conclusion or like you’re a sure thing. You should be with someone who touches you like you’re a thing of wonder, like they can’t believe you’re letting them put their hands on you. You should be with...”

It’s rare, this supernova of unwanted self-knowledge blossoming inside of him.

“...with someone who’s patient and respectful,” he ends, taking a step away from Elliot. There’s room now that the man he rescued Elliot from has fucked off somewhere else. “Anything else is a waste of your time. And probably offensive to your sense of style, anyway.”

Elliot stares at him like he’s never really looked at Jonah before—like Jonah’s a snake offering him an apple. He looks so, so wary, and still so young, and Jonah doesn’t know what to do with him at all.

“This was on purpose,” Elliot says after a moment. He looks down at his hands when Jonah doesn’t confirm it. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” It sounds a little bitter.

“Elliot,” says Jonah. Elliot looks up at him, and Jonah doesn’t know what to say next. There’s absolutely no way this moment ends well, so he doesn’t end it, and Elliot looks up at him like he doesn’t expect him to.

He’s still staring down into Elliot’s upturned face when Elliot’s phone rings. Elliot blinks a few times and then digs it out of his pocket. “Nicholas,” he says into it, sounding relieved. “Thank god. Yeah. Yes, please, come get me, this party sucks.”

He’s already backing away towards the entrance, and the light from inside the house is garish. Jonah squints away from it and leans against the railing, wondering if this entire scene could be classified as a mistake of his own making.

“Hey.” He turns back. Elliot’s paused in the doorway, silhouetted. “Goodbye, Mister Wolf,” says Elliot, and he sends Jonah a wry little smile, and then he’s gone.

Jonah laughs, an astonished sort of sound against the sudden stillness.

He looks out into the darkness and murmurs, “And hello,” and doesn’t let himself think too hard.


End file.
